


It's the Apocalypse, Bitch.

by coldairballoons



Category: The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Charlotte has Trust Issues, Confessions, Crack Treated Seriously, Drunk Sex, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Found Family, Healthy Relationships, Inspired by COVID-19, Kissing, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Morning After, Multi, Nightmares, Nonmonogamous Relationship, Past Abuse, Pining, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Quarantine, Team as Family, Viruses, abuse recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldairballoons/pseuds/coldairballoons
Summary: A mysterious virus is spreading through the world, starting in Hatchetfield.And in Hatchetfield, a team of nine misfits from society join together to brave the world of the coming pandemic.There will be kissing. There will be tears. There will be dick jokes.After all, this is humanity's eleventh hour.***(Edit: Updated 1/26/2021. I have nothing to say for myself about this hiatus, I'm so sorry ahfjsdhfds)
Relationships: Alice/Deb (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Bill/Paul Matthews/Emma Perkins, Charlotte/Melissa (The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals), Henry Hidgens/Ted, Melissa/Emma Perkins
Comments: 30
Kudos: 94





	1. Wheels Start Spinning on the Pavement

**Author's Note:**

> All chapter titles will be taken from Sara Bareilles' album Amidst the Chaos, which means... dun dun dun, 12 chapters!

It started small, like most things in Hatchetfield did. A little cough, a runny nose, a headache when there shouldn’t have been one.

But it grew, over time. Reports popped up across the small town’s neighboring cities, then states, and soon the virus (whatever it was, of course, it might not even be a virus) was spreading nation-wide.

Not just nation-wide, it seemed, but globally.

And Hatchetfield was in the middle of it.

***

Ted Spankoffski was hungover. 

The sunlight slanting through his windows hit his eyes, and he groaned, throwing a hand to cover them. His head was throbbing, something he should have been used to after all these sleepless nights of drinking away his problems, and yet, still, he wasn’t.

And shit, he could do with a painkiller or three.

Ted scrunched up his nose, trying, willing that damned headache to go away, and when it stubbornly stayed (the bitch) he finally rolled over in bed, sighing.

“Fuck this,” Ted grumbled, and sat up. Almost instantly the throbbing in his head increased by a tenfold, and a wave of nausea flooded over him. 

Another grumbled “fuck this” was followed by an unpleasant churning in his stomach, and he threw his blanket off of him and promptly ran to the bathroom, kneeling in front of the toilet just in time.

***

Deb Spankoffski-Richards woke up to the sound of her (adoptive) father vomiting.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

She rubbed at her eyes, trying to get the last bits of sleep to go away, and pulled on a hoodie over her dark tank top. It was cold in the apartment, colder than it had been in a long while thanks to the surprise wintery weather that was supposed to have blown in overnight, but she didn’t really mind. She had a warm bed, a loving father, and hell, even a new set of paintbrushes for her 18th birthday a while back.

Deb loved living with Ted, even if he was a gross, chaotic man who she probably wouldn’t mind bitch-slapping someday if he did something just stupid enough. But he was her gross, chaotic idiot man of a father.

Which is how she ended up making him a hangover cure not even ten minutes later, handing it to him as he laid on the couch with a cool washcloth over his forehead.

“Feeling any better?” Deb asked quietly, offering him another glass of water, which he declined. “Dad, you’ve gotta stay hydrated.”

Ted sighed, and tried to sit up, but the nausea was coming back and soon he was laying back down on the couch, groaning. “Kid, you don’t have to… fuck. You don’t have to take care of me.”

Deb rolled her eyes punching him playfully on the arm. “Nah, man. You adopted me. Your fault.”

“Fuck you.” But it was in a playful tone, and they both could tell that he didn’t really mean it. In fact, it was almost as loving as the words could be.

***

After a while longer, Ted was sitting upright with Deb’s feet propped up on his lap, eating some oatmeal that he’d found in the (bleak, a little bit miserable) pantry with the news turned on. Background noise, which both he and Deb appreciated. 

He was still groggy, from sleep and from the hangover, so he only caught a few words until Deb almost urgently nudged him, pointing to the TV. “Turn it up.”

And so he did.

_“We interrupt this program to bring you breaking news from Hatchetfield.” _The reporter started, but was cut off by someone pulling her aside and whispering in her ear, handing her a slip of paper. She nodded, and the person pulled away, leaving her alone on the screen.__

____

____

__“Citizens of Hatchetfield,” _She tried again, but this time, the camera panned away from her, bringing them to a table with an important-looking man in a business-like suit sitting at it, holding a piece of paper in his hands.__ _

____He cleared his throat, and Ted could feel the tension in the recording studio. After all, the man was stiff, his shoulders tight._ _ _ _

____Oh, and he was wearing a surgical mask. Probably should have noticed that earlier._ _ _ _

_____“We at channel SK10 have received word that there is a deadly virus spreading. The sources are unknown, the causes are also unknown, but the places it is inhabiting are known.” ____ _ _ _

______Deb was reaching for Ted’s hand, and he took hers and squeezed it, dreading the worst that he knew was yet to come._ _ _ _ _ _

_______“There is a deadly virus, and it is inside Hatchetfield.” ____ _ _ _ _ _

________***_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Bill Woodward didn’t know how he got here._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Not here, like in his apartment with Paul, but here, metaphorically. With a daughter at 17, a wife at 18, and a divorce at 19. Bill was a good kid, he always had been, which is why when he dropped out of school after Alice was born his teachers were more than confused._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________But Paul was always there. He graduated, just like any other high school senior, went to Hatchetfield University in the city, got an apartment, and asked if Bill needed to move in with him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________They’d been roommates for a better part of Alice’s life._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Bill had a future, prospects, but he fucked it all up._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Of course, he couldn’t imagine life without his daughter. In fact, Alice was the best thing that ever happened to him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________All thoughts of the past, however, were interrupted as Bill was whacked in the face with a hand. Not any hand, but the hand currently connected to his roommate, still asleep in the bed next to him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________There had been a cold front the night before, and Paul’s landlord had either been procrastinating fixing the heating on the apartment complex, had forgotten, or just… didn’t want to._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Landlords were demons from the darkest pits of hell, Bill decided, but Paul snuggled a bit closer in his sleep, and suddenly, it wasn’t quite as horrible anymore._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Paul snored in his sleep, a quiet, soft snore that Bill didn’t mind whatsoever. In fact, it was a comforting white noise in the apartment._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Everything was peaceful, that cold morning, but then the door to Bill’s bedroom swung open, and Alice was standing there, tears streaming down her face, holding her phone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Dad?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Her voice broke before she could even get another word out, and Bill shoved Paul awake, scooching over in the bed so Alice could crawl in, and he could wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. We’re here.” Bill whispered against Alice’s hair as she cried, shaking with sobs. “It’s okay.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________***_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Paul Matthews awoke to a sharp shove and crying._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He was still half-asleep, he couldn’t tell who was crying and who was the one soothing the other until he sat up and saw Alice, still sniffling, her head buried in the crook of Bill’s shoulder. Almost tentatively, he rested a hand on Bill’s shoulder, and when he saw that there were tears in his eyes, Paul pulled the two of them into a tight hug._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“What’s going on?” Paul questioned, which caused Alice’s breathing to quicken. He reached over and ran his hand through her hair, instantly regretting what he’d said. “You’re okay. You’re okay. You don’t have to answer.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“No,” Alice croaked, almost struggling out of the group hug (it wasn’t that she wanted to leave, per se, it was just that she couldn’t think clearly) and sitting at the foot of the bed, “no, no, I need to. You need to know.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Bill nodded, looking at Paul. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Alice nodded, and closed her eyes, trying to focus. Breathing, that was good. Breathing is important._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“There’s… there’s a virus.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Paul looked at Bill, cocking his head, and Alice continued, reaching her hands out to the two men. “It’s… god, it’s supposed to be deadly. Deadly. Deb told me, it was on the news.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“We’re supposed to stay indoors. Not to leave the house.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Bill blinked, and subconsciously reached to Paul to take his hand. An anchor, that was what all of them needed right now. He let out a shaky breath, looking up at the ceiling. “Jeez.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“Yeah.” Alice huffed out a sort of cry-laugh, and soon she was crying again, and being pulled into another hug. “I’m so, so scared.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________“I know,” Bill whispered back, kissing her forehead, “I know. We’ll get through this. We’ll figure something out.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________Alice nodded, and Paul smiled a little bit, his brow still wrinkled with worry. He was about to say something, something else, but then his phone rang._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________He reached over and picked it up, uttering a soft, “Hello?” into the line._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_________“Hi, Paul? It’s Emma.” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________***_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________“Hi, Paul? It’s Emma.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Emma Perkins had a plan._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________Her biology professor’s house was like a fortress, and when Professor Henry Hidgens had texted her, in his weird, cryptic, way, with an offer for a place to stay during the “coming apocalypse”, she couldn’t refuse._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________She’d called Paul as soon as the offer had been given, texting Hidgens that she was going to _“call a few friends, how much room do you have?” _, and sometime during the shortened summary, her professor texted back.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_____________“As much as you need.” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“Hi, Paul, okay, so, obviously, you know what’s going on, yeah?” Emma asked, putting her phone on speaker and tossing it to her bed, getting up and stretching. Without waiting for an answer, she started again. “Yeah, good. ‘Kay, so, I have this kooky, reclusive, biology professor? He’s been planning for the apocalypse since he was born, basically.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________“So anyways,” she tugged off her hoodie, the designated one for sleeping, and threw on a sports bra and another hoodie, “he texted me and said “hey, you can stay over until this whole thing blows over”, and I was like “sweet, can I bring some friends,” and he was like “yeah sure we have enough room”, so you guys can come with.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

______________Paul’s muttered “what the hell” was enough for her to continue, grinning, as she threw on a pair of shorts, picked up her cat and held that bastard like a little baby. “It’s the apocalypse, bitch, and my professor is letting me go ahead and bring you guys along. Hell, bring Charlotte and that cute receptionist, Melissa? And Alice, kiddo, you can text your girlfriend and her dad.” Even though he’s an asshole, she thought, but didn’t say._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______________“Got it. Hey, Em, thanks. Where, uh, where can we meet you?” ____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________She gave him the address, and after signing off with a “see ya, who’s ready to celebrate the end of the world together?”, Emma hung up, sighing, put her cat down and stretched her arms._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________She clapped once, twice, and grinned, a shit-eating grin, and turned to her cacti that were hanging out on the windowsill. “Alright, bitches, who’s ready to get repotted?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________***_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Professor Henry Hidgens was prepared._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________He was prepared for anything, everything, even the unreal or impossible, and when it came to catastrophes, well, he was great at them._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Not at causing them, not on purpose. But surviving them, living in his home, alone, for as long as was needed. He had two storage rooms stocked with enough bottled water to last for at least five years, boxes and boxes of sustainable foods, hell, he even had rigged a way to power the entire building with enough electricity to function independently._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Then again, that was only a last resort._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________He’d cleared out the spare bedrooms in the basement, first and second floors, which had previously been filled with random science experiments, props and old costume pieces, and a shit ton of other random junk._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________Hidgens was ready for anything the world would throw at him, he was sure of it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________And even as the cars pulled up into his long driveway, the gates opening at his will, and a mismatched group of people began to unload from the cars, Hidgens knew._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________He was ready._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

________________They were ready._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, man, I can't WAIT to work through this more. This is so much fun already to write.
> 
> When I get to the last chapter I'll thank some people who made this possible, but for now, thank you, readers, for actually reading and absorbing the story! Hopefully you'll enjoy the found family trope as much as I enjoy writing it.
> 
> Also, thanks to all my followers and friends on Tumblr, who've helped with inspiring me to write this monster of a fanfiction.
> 
> I love you guys. Thanks!


	2. Tell Me How to Start; What Comes After You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the makeshift family moves into their new home, everyone grapples with reality. Some more so than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Past abuse, aftermath of abuse, alcohol.

When Emma had mentioned a weird old biology professor, this… definitely wasn’t what came to Ted’s mind. He’d expected some tall, skinny old dude with a long-ass white beard, greying hair, maybe a monocle and suit, or hell, a lab coat and goggles, if he was being honest.

He didn’t expect quite possibly the hottest man he’d ever seen to be welcoming them into his home with a smile on his face. 

“Hello! Ted, correct?” What the fuck, had Emma told him his name? And then his hand was being shaken and shit this wasn’t bad after all. “Excellent to meet you. Henry Hidgens.”

“Uh. Yeah.” He spluttered, then regained the little composure he had left. “And my daughter, Deb.” Ted gestured over to the girl, smiling a bit when he saw her and Alice wrapped in a tight embrace. 

The professor nodded, smiling. A genuine, real smile. “She looks like you.”

Ted snorted. “She’s adopted. She’s been here for… damn, eight years at this point.” But there was something about the way she walked, the same swaggering walk that Ted used, something about the way she used her hands to prove her points, something there that was similar that laid beyond blood. “But we’re close.”

“I can tell.” 

“Damn, Sherlock. What other deduction have you got?” It was playful, and Ted could see Henry sigh, ignoring the smile that was on both of their faces. “Seriously though, thanks, man. You don’t have to let all of us stay here, it’s really nice.”

Henry opened his mouth to respond, but before he could do so, Emma called out a quick, “Professor!”, and his attention turned immediately to her. 

Emma had a duffel bag slung over one of her shoulders, and was holding a cat in her other arm when she finally got to where they were standing. “Hey, where can we go ahead and load in?” She said, and Henry broke away from the previous conversation to show her, presumably, to the living room, or, at least, what would be serving as one.

The house was like a fortress, Ted decided, more so than he’d thought in the car ride over, and as he followed the professor inside, yeah, his thoughts were just proven again. It was a solid two-story house, sure, but anyone inside could tell how fortified it was. 

Then again, the exterior said the same story. Kooky professor on the edge of town, with a nice house, complete with a giant steel and concrete fence… gate… thing. It was bizarre, obviously, but there was something about the whole place that felt homey in the weirdest way.

And the inside was even weirder. Posters from various broadway (and off-broadway) shows littered the halls, an entire sarcophagus stood against a wall, and next to it, a bust of Oscar Wilde.

Not only was this guy weird, he was crazy. 

(And, judging by the musicals and Oscar Wilde, maybe gay, but Ted wasn’t gonna bring that up unless Henry wanted to tell him.)

In all, the guy was weird, Ted was gonna give him that. But it was a cool kind of weird. The kind of weird that worked pretty well with the whole “reclusive professor” vibe. 

***

“And you’ve got everything, right?” Bill asked for what seemed like the thousandth time. Alice sighed, pulling her sweater tighter around her. The temperature had dropped, and even though it was still relatively warm, clouds had begun to form again, and Alice wasn’t great with anything less than temperate. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got everything.” It was a lie---she’d had to leave some of her stuff behind at home, since it couldn’t fit into the minimalistic two suitcases.

God, two suitcases. In theory, yeah, you could hold a lot of stuff in two suitcases. But with the news, that they might be stuck for almost a year, it was barely anything.

A whole life. Packed away in two suitcases.

But she had the essentials---at least, her essentials. Her four favorite sweaters, all loose and comfortable, her iPad and all the stuff for it, and her old frog stuffed animal.

Deb had given it to her on their first anniversary, almost four years ago at this point, and it had come with her everywhere. When her mom and stepdad got into that fight, and Deb was in another city, that frog was there. 

But now, with all this… chaos, this change in life in Hatchetfield, Alice needed something normal to cling onto. And the frog was it.

“Hey, babe.” Deb called, and suddenly Alice was being enveloped in a tight hug, which she gladly accepted. Her hands wrapped around her girlfriend’s back, pulling her even closer and burying her head in Deb’s shoulder. “Whoa, hey.”

Alice was not going to start crying again. She wasn’t. She wasn’t!

She was. And then Deb was holding her while she cried into her shoulder, pulling her girlfriend even closer. She was whispering soft words of comfort against her hair. “Hey. Hey, hey, what’s up? What’s going on?”

Alice sniffled, pulling away to wipe at her eyes. “I was worried about you…” She shook her head, pulling her back in, and tried to let all her words melt into the hug.

Deb got it. Deb always got it. And Alice let herself be held as she cried, knowing that she was safe. And somehow that just made her cry more, knowing. 

But it was okay. It would always be okay.

***

Paul had laid down in the room that the professor had let him stay in nearly a half hour ago, just laying on the bed and thinking. His jacket was on the ground with his shoes, the hoodie he wore underneath it pulled up over his head like it was a way of hiding.

And, in a sense, it was. A way of hiding from whatever force was causing all of this chaos.

He barely noticed when the door opened, then closed again, and only realized another presence in the room when a weight sank onto the bed.

“Hey, Paul.” Emma said softly, and Paul pulled the hood off of his eyes to look up at her. 

Evidently, he must have looked awful. For all he could guess, he had dark circles under his eyes, his skin was pale, his hair was a wreck… hell, he’d been stressed before all of this happened. “Hey, Em.”

Luckily for him, Emma was a cuddler. A cuddler who didn’t give a flying fuck about social norms, which is how she ended up laying with her head on Paul’s chest.

He had feelings for her, that was obvious. Paul had admitted it months ago, and Emma had reciprocated the feelings. But that was right after Emma’s girlfriend had broken it off with her, and neither of them were ready for a relationship at the time. 

And it was okay, because both of them were okay. It was right after Paul had come out as bisexual, too, so hey, another thing they had in common. 

“What’s goin’ on?” Emma asked after a couple more minutes of comfortable silence. “You seem exhausted.”

Paul sighed, ruffling her hair. “It’s this whole… ordeal.”

“Hm.” Emma practically purred, fiddling with the strings on his hoodie. “You wanna talk about it?” 

Paul didn’t know what he wanted, at this point. He wanted to sleep, that was for sure. He wanted to figure out what the fuck was going on between him and Bill, he wanted to not have to deal with this damned government-issued quarantine.

But talking about it wasn’t on the top of his list of “wants”. 

“Not really.” Paul admitted, and yawned, pulling the hoodie back up over his eyes. “Honestly, I’ve been so stressed with work, and just… now, this?” Emma nodded, smiling softly. 

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” There was a pause, then she continued. “...I’ll leave you alone, if you wanna sleep or something.”

Paul shrugged, ruffling her hair again. Damn, it was soft. “You can stay. I like cuddling.” 

Emma snorted, reaching up and tugging on his hood. “Good. ‘Cause I like it too.”

***

Melissa Montague was officially stir-crazy. It had been less than an hour at this new place, this weird-ass house, and she’d already loaded all of her stuff into the room where she was told she could stay.

After all, the secretary wasn’t used to being stuck indoors all day. On good days, she’d go for a run, practice pitching, on the bad days, she’d play Animal Crossing or something. But it was always something active.

Now, with her DS being broken by a shitty, shitty ex, and her softball stuff in the rec center locker, she really was bored. 

She’d been throwing a tennis ball at the door, which ended poorly when Charlotte had come to check up on her a few minutes after she’d begun, hearing the pounding and expecting the worst.

God, Charlotte. Charlotte, the woman who wore her heart out on her sleeve. Charlotte, who fell for any man who was nice to her, who didn’t treat her like shit. And even the ones who did treat her like shit, the one she still waited for night after night.

It broke Melissa’s heart.

It wasn’t just that she’d been in love with the woman for years at this point, no, it was because it hurt her to see Charlotte cry every night alone in her room, it hurt to see her after a fight with Sam, it hurt when she’d finally filed for divorce, filling the hole in her heart with alcohol and drugs and other men.

It hurt Melissa to see her like this.

So she taught Charlotte how to play softball on the good weekends, the ones with lots of sun and cool air and the minimal amount of alcohol in her system. She taught her how to pitch, how to throw, how to run the bases, how to do the sport she’d loved her whole life.

Bit by bit, Melissa could see Charlotte gain back that little bit of fight in her. She’d known it was there, the other woman just couldn’t seem to find it. 

So when the faculty softball league started back up for the season, and Melissa volunteered Charlotte to pitch at a man that looked all too similar to Sam, it was no wonder that they went home that day with a winning score and a grin (and a few smudges of dirt) on Charlotte’s face.

Melissa loved Charlotte Brown for who she was, away from everyone else. The woman who stood up against her abusive ex, the woman who didn’t hesitate to argue on behalf of a scared teenager, scared of their father, the woman who had a fighting spirit in her.

Melissa Montague was in love with Charlotte Brown.

***

“Professor?”

Henry Hidgens turned around towards the voice, and almost hit Charlotte in the face with the book he was holding onto. “Shit, I’m sorry. Charlotte, right? Emma told me about you.”

Charlotte’s eyes opened wider for a split second, before she spoke. “Oh, she did?” There was a hint of panic there, Henry could tell, and he immediately rushed to fix anything he’d messed up on.

“Oh, all good things, don’t worry. She speaks very highly of you, you know.” Flattery wasn’t going to get him anywhere, he decided, then shook his head, smiling what he hoped was a gentle, comforting smile. “What was it you were going to ask?”

Charlotte nodded, and smiled, a little shakily. That was worrisome, but he shook it off as nothing but nerves. After all, that day had been weird enough. “I was wondering if you had anything to… drink?”

“Well, I have water, plenty of it, and tea, and coffee, and… oh. Oh. You mean.” Henry blinked, wincing at his blatant mess-up. “Yeah. Yes, I’ve got plenty. What’re you looking for in particular?” 

“Oh, just some… whiskey’s fine. Whiskey is good.” Henry nodded, and gestured for her to follow him into the kitchen, where the liquor cabinet was, fully stocked, mind you.

He reached up and opened the cabinet, grabbing the bottle of whiskey that was closest to the edge of the shelf, the shut it, but didn’t ignore Charlotte’s flinch at the small, but somewhat loud noise.

“Are you alright?” Henry asked, placing the bottle down on the counter. The woman was still tense, flexing her hands into fists, then spreading out her fingers, as if to shake of some invisible force. “Charlotte?”

“Oh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” She smiled, and Henry could tell that it was a blatant lie. 

And even as the two sat on opposite ends of Henry’s couch quietly nursing the glasses of whiskey, Henry made it his solemn vow to do whatever he could to help Charlotte. To figure out exactly what was going on with her.

By the looks of it, he wasn’t sure if she’d let him in. And that was okay. That was fine. 

But Henry Hidgens was determined to help, no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, chapter two is up!
> 
> I'm planning on updating either weekly, or if I'm feeling lucky, twice a week! Hopefully you'll enjoy the process! 
> 
> Anyways, ENTER CHARLOTTE. 
> 
> She deserves the world.


	3. Blind Men Only Set the World on Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Paul tries to figure out what the hell his emotions even are, at this point, Ted realizes that, yeah, he's definitely got feelings for Hidgens. And whether it's just another Horny Bastard feeling or an actual Feeling Feeling, he definitely does NOT know how to act on it.

“Alright, bitches.” Emma clapped her hands together, startling Paul, who was still half-asleep from his short nap earlier, awake. “We’re gonna be stuck here for a while together, so I propose… a game night.”

“A game night?” Ted called, and the amount of sarcasm dripping from the words could drown a man. Emma looked at him, with an expression that practically said, “I am done with your bullshit”, but she rolled her eyes, and continued.

“Yes, Ted, a game night. Family bonding and all that bullshit.” She walked over to where Paul was sitting, muttered a “scoot”, and reluctantly, Paul moved over a bit. When she realized that all eyes were still on her, Emma waved her hand, shrugging. “Talk amongst yourselves! This isn’t a trial or some shit.”

With that, there was a bout of reluctant chatter, followed almost immediately by the professor standing up, almost like a soloist at a performance. 

“I’m really glad that you’re all here,” Henry started out, followed by a sharp “whoop!” from Emma and a whistle from Ted. He cracked a grin, and waited for silence to fall over the room again before he continued. “It’s a hellish time, and it’s been a long time since I’ve had people here. Real, actual people, I mean, to stay for more than a few hours. It’s my honor to help you get through this trying time, and I hope that you’ll appreciate my company during this time as much as I will you.”

He paused, then glanced over at Ted, and was that a blush rising on his cheeks? Surely not. Henry nodded, then went back to sit, and was followed by a bout of applause, another “whoop whoop!” from Emma, another whistle, this time from Ted, Deb and Alice, and a “nice one, dude!” from Melissa. 

Yeah, maybe this wouldn’t be so horrible, Emma thought, leaning up against Paul and leaning her head on his shoulder. There was another moment of quiet, before Melissa spoke up.

“So, game night?”

***

Turns out, Ted was right about a few things.

One, that the professor was gay. Or, at least, into guys. They’d been in the kitchen looking for some spare bowls for the popcorn that was in the microwave when he’d mentioned something about a past boyfriend. The way he said it gave Ted a sad, nostalgic feeling, and he could tell that the professor felt the same way, so he left it at that.

Two, he was great at deductions. Henry played it off like a cheap party trick, which, in theory, it was, but at the same time, he could tell that Ted was still slightly hungover and achy from the morning. 

But that was probably obvious, given his comments during the day, so the jury was still out on that one.

And three, Ted was definitely not catching feelings for the other man, as Deb would have put it. No, there wasn’t anything there, nothing in the way that they looked at each other, nothing in the way that Ted was watching Henry’s ass as he bent down to pick up the trash from the popcorn bag, nothing at all in the way that Ted was wondering how he would look bent over in another way---

Whoa. Okay. 

Ted shook his head, shutting his eyes. He was NOT going to become the notorious horny bastard that everyone in the building probably knew him to be, at least not while he was here. Not now. 

Once those thoughts were cleared out of his head, at least for the time being, he was finally able to focus on the game. The game, of course, being two, running at the same time. 

Someone had plugged in Emma’s switch to one of the professor’s televisions, and she, Paul, Bill, Alice and Deb were all playing MarioKart, each far more chaotic in the game than they were in real life. At least, that was what Ted hoped, watching his daughter drive the motorcycle like a crazy person.

On the other side of the room, Melissa was teaching Charlotte and Henry the basics of Minecraft, which she’d loaded up on her laptop. It was highly amusing to watch the varied reactions amongst them, especially when she showed Henry the zombies. 

He really appreciated that, the way his eyes lit up and how he was immediately asking about “how did they turn into that? Was there some form of virus, or contamination, or was it radioactivity?”. Evidently Melissa hadn’t been expecting that, and she quickly tried to explain that, no, they were just normal random zombies.

“Hey, padre.” Deb called, waving him over, and tossing him a controller. “Your turn. I wanna go blow shit up in Minecraft.”

“Wow, subtle much?” Ted laughed a bit at that as he caught the controller, sitting down where she’d been sitting---perched on the arm of Henry’s couch like some sort of bird, or as Deb would prefer, Mothman.

With a quick glance at Ted, Emma rolled her eyes once more, grinning. “I’m gonna kick your ass, Ted Richards.”

Ted snorted, focusing on the screen. “Fuckin’ bet, Perkins.”

***

There was something about the noise there, Alice decided that night, when rain was pounding against the window in her room, that set her on edge. 

It was a nice room, she wasn’t going to complain, and it was a nice house in general. But there was something about the way the thunder echoed in the long, distant hallways, and the way the lighting crashed outside that giant window that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, that made an unpleasant weight settle in the pit of her stomach.

It was finally a knock at her door that startled her out of her thoughts, and, glad to finally have some sort of a distraction, Alice got up from the bed, wrapping her blanket around her, to open the door. 

She didn’t really expect Paul to be standing there, very obviously trying not to cry. “Uncle Paul?”

“I… need advice.”

Alice nodded, and shut the door behind him as he walked towards the bed, finally flopping down on it and sighing. He ran a hand over his face, inhaling, trying to center himself, probably, before starting to talk. “I have feelings for someone.”

Alice nodded, sitting next to him and crossing her legs under her. “Continue.”

Paul sighed, shutting his eyes and pulling the hood of his hoodie up again. “Multiple people. At once. Two. And I know that… I know that it’s okay, and all, and that’s it’s not… I don’t know.”

Alice nodded sympathetically, reaching across to take his hand. “I know. It’s a lot, yeah? Do you wanna keep talking, or…?” She left the question open-ended, but Paul shook his head, sniffing. 

“Yeah. Yeah, so, um. Two people. And I… could see myself in a relationship with both, both at once, but I don’t know… how to say it, or if they’d think it’s… gross, or cheating, or something, and… aaaghh…” Paul groaned, grabbing one of Alice’s pillows and burying his face in it. “Why are emotions so frustrating?” 

“Tell me about it.” Alice flopped down beside him, fluffing his hair. “Hey, Uncle Paul?”

Paul looked over at her, still not taking his head out of the pillow. “Yeah?” 

“I’ve been where you are.” She admitted softly, almost awkwardly. “Before Deb and I. So I get it.”

Paul nodded, a little bit nervously, and buried his face back in the pillow. “I just don’t know what to do. I could… screw everything up.” 

Alice could tell he was just trying to censor himself around her, and she giggled, nudging him lightly. “You can say fuck, it’s fine.” 

He shook his head, rolling over so he was laying on his back. “I don’t have a clue about this, Liss, about any of it. It’s so… weird. I don’t know.”

“Then, honestly?” Alice shrugged. “Talk to them. Talk it out. I know I’m here, but I’m like your… kid, but cooler. You need to talk to people your age about this, Uncle Paul, like Dad, or Emma, or, hell, even Ted.”

Paul groaned, shutting his eyes again. “I hope you know that two of those three people are the same ones I’m trying to avoid talking to about this, and, big surprise, it’s not Ted.”

“Oh.” Alice’s eyes grew wide, as did the grin on her face. “Oh! Uncle Paul, you have feelings for my dad?”

He looked up at Alice with eyes that practically begged her to stay silent about all of this. “Don’t tell him? Not yet, I’m not ready at all, and it’s been wild these past few months, and---” He was cut off by a clap of thunder and Alice’s flinch at the sound, and he reached out a hand to try to comfort her. “Wanna just drop the subject for now? We can watch Netflix or something for a little while until you’re ready to go back to bed, if you want.”

Alice smiled, and once Paul was sitting straight up again, she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Sounds great, Uncle Paul.”

***

Ted was totally fucked.

It wasn’t that he’d MEANT to walk in on the professor, it was just that the door was open and he didn’t realize that the music was probably too loud so his entrance startled the other man, and plus, he had to ask to get some water to take his meds.

But damn, once he saw those hips, Ted definitely didn’t regret it. Deb had taken him to see Alice’s school’s production of Legally Blonde last year, so he recognized the music, if only vaguely, and he was definitely caught off guard when the professor did that dance move they do in the show.

What was it? The bend and… something else.

“Oh! Ted!”

Fuck.

Henry was walking over, his silver hair slightly damp, but still shiny and rich, albeit plastered to his forehead, and Ted’s eyes were surely still glued on his hips. Damn, could you blame him? 

“Are you alright? I didn’t hear you, I apologize.” Henry quickly said, a bit out of breath. “I was… well, you saw.”

Ted’s jaw was definitely not still dropped. No way. “Uh. Uhuh. Yeah. Um.”

Henry raised an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “Did you need help with something? Finding something, or…?”

And then Ted was backing out of the room, shaking his head and smiling nervously. “Nope! Nope, I’m good. A-okay. 10/10. Very good. Wonderful. Uh.” 

The pair looked at each other for a moment, before Ted quickly stammered out a, “gOODNIGHT!” and turned and fled the room, closing the door behind him.

Yeah, he was totally, definitely, absolutely fucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TEDGENS TEDGENS TEDGENS TEDGENS
> 
> damn guys we're getting there
> 
> (bend and snap will be used later in the story, I can assure you... ;))


	4. To Hold Me Safe Inside, To Hold Me Anywhere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two idiots are oblivious, impulsive, horny bastards, while Melissa and Charlotte finally admit their feelings. 
> 
> Warnings: Drinking, drunken sex, implied sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahaha they fuckin'

Henry definitely didn’t register what had just happened until he was laying in his bed after he’d showered, looking up at his ceiling, and suddenly realised that, yeah, Ted Richards had just seen him dancing.

Not even the regular choreographed dancing that he’d been practicing for his musical. No, no, Ted had walked in on him doing the Bend and Snap.

“Well.” Henry whispered, running a hand through his hair, damp from the shower. That was certainly interesting. 

It didn’t help that he’d been noticing things about the other man, especially earlier that day. The way he laughed at Emma, not patronizing or “I’m-Better-Than-You” laughter, but genuine, hearty laughter that made something in Henry’s chest flutter. The way he clearly cared for his daughter, related by blood or not, the way he walked, the way he talked, the way his eyelashes fluttered when he was dozing off on the couch with Deb’s head on his shoulder.

And, well, could you blame Henry for glancing not only at his arms, but at the tiny bit of skin that showed beneath his T-shirt as he stretched, yawning, before declaring that he was going to turn in for the night, and, as Henry would hate to admit, watching the other man walk away, his hips swaying in a way that gave him butterflies in his stomach, and… other areas, as well.

It was then that Henry realized his pajama shorts had grown a little too tight for his comfort, and he groaned, turning over and burying his face into his pillow, grumbling out a soft “I’m getting too old for this.” against it.

***

Ted, from the other side of the house, was having a crisis.

“What the fuck.” He muttered again, running his hands through his hair. “What the fuck.”

He was not going to question everything, he was not going to put everything on the line for some stupid, stupid-ass feelings that he didn’t even know if he was having! This was a no-no.

But goddamn, did Ted just want to pin the professor up against a wall and kiss him senseless and---

No. No, no. Nononononono.

“What the fuck.” Ted whispered again, falling back down onto his bed again. No, no, he was NOT going to do this. “What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck.”

He wan’t going to do this. He wasn’t going to fall head-over-heels in love with possibly the sexiest professor to walk this fucking planet.

But fuck, did he want to.

Yeah, he really, REALLY did want to.

***

Charlotte was currently asleep on Melissa’s lap, which would have been absolutely adorable if not for two very key, very important details. 

One, Melissa’s leg had fallen asleep a while ago, and she was beginning to lose feeling in the other.

And two, she really, really needed to shower.

But she wouldn’t move, not until Charlotte woke up. She hadn’t been sleeping well for a while, so Melissa was happy to give her any bit of comfort she could muster.

Oh, third key thing, she seriously had to pee.

Fuck.

“‘Lissa?” A sleepy voice whispered, and Charlotte shifted on her lap, rolling over to look up at Melissa. “How long…?”

“Not long.” Melissa smiled, fluffing Charlotte’s hair. “Just a half-hour at most. How’re you feeling?”

Charlotte yawned, stretched, then sat up, rubbing at her eyes. “Still kinda… sleepy. Dunno.”

Melissa nodded, smiling, and playing with a stray curl of her ginger hair. “You know you snore a bit, huh?”

The older woman blinked up at Melissa, a blush spreading on her freckled cheeks. “I… I do? I didn’t even realize, I’m sorry--”

“Nonono, Char.” Melissa interrupted her, smiling. “It’s cute. Don’t worry about it.”

There was a moment of quiet, an almost flustered, awkward beat, before Charlotte spoke again, quietly. “Cute?”

Melissa nodded. “Yeah.”

Charlotte was so close to Melissa, she could hear the other woman’s breathing. She could feel it on her lips as the two got closer, even closer, and soon Melissa was just closing her eyes and feeling the pure warmth radiating off of Charlotte.

“I have feelings for you.” Melissa blurted out, and cracked one eye open to see Charlotte, red in the face, mere inches away from her. “And I… really fuckin’ wanna kiss you right now--”

“Then do it.”

And then Melissa was leaning in and their lips were meeting and it was perfect. Charlotte was melting into Melissa’s touch and her hands were in Charlotte’s ginger hair and it was as soft as it looked.

Melissa pressed closer, bringing one hand up to rest at her jaw and pulling the older woman closer, smiling against her lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” she whispered, before leaning back in and kissing her softly again.

“I never thought…” Charlotte said in return, quietly and gently, in that sweet Southern accent of hers, “I never thought I was… good enough. Until I found you.”

“You’re good enough.” Melissa replied, pulling her closer and leaning their foreheads together. “Fuck, you’re better than “good”. You’re a goddamn angel, Charlotte, and I really fucking am in love with you. You’re perfect.” 

She leaned in again to press her lips to Charlotte’s cheek, her nose, her temple, anywhere. “You deserve the world, Charlotte Brown.”

***

Ted was not going to become the notorious horny bastard.

He just wasn’t. 

No, he was not going to lay in bed and not stop thinking about those fucking hips, the way his ass moved in those fucking shorts, the way he SAUNTERED over to greet Ted at the doorway.

Goddammit.

Ted had just about given up. 

He needed a drink. Or three.  
Sighing, he got up, pulling on one of the old ratty blankets as if it was a cloak, and crept out of the room to the kitchen. He paused for a brief moment outside the professor’s bedroom, wondering if he should even think about going in and talking.

The other man seemed to be asleep, so Ted didn’t want to bother him. Of course, he wasn’t going to actually talk in the middle of the night, was he?

Ted pulled the blanket tighter around himself and made his way to the kitchen, where he rummaged around for a few minutes, grabbed a bottle of whiskey, and poured some into a glass that was on the counter. 

He hadn’t even realized he’d downed almost five glasses of the stuff until a voice called out, “Ted?” and Ted turned around, head spinning only a little more than usual to see the professor, sporting shorts that showed off his upper thighs far too much than was necessary, not that Ted was complaining, and a sweater that was far too long and looked really fucking soft.

“Hey, Hen.” Ted grimaced at the way his words slurred together, but he forced a sort of grin upon seeing the other man standing there, looking like the sexiest fucking angel in the moonlight. “What’s up? Fancy seein’ you here.”

Henry snorted, glancing down at the drink, then at the chair across from Ted. “Mind if I sit?”

“It’s a free country.” Ted shrugged, pouring out a little more of the whiskey. He drank the rest of what was in the glass, poured a bit more, then handed the bottle to Henry, which he gladly took, taking a swig of it. “Can’t sleep either?”

“Can’t stop thinking.” Henry admitted, grimacing as the whiskey burned his throat on the way down. “There’s so much going on. Out there,” he gestured to the window, “and in here.” He gestured to his head, sighing and laying it down on his palm. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Ted offered, and Henry shrugged, taking another sip of the drink. “Seriously, no pressure here, man.”

Henry finally nodded, shutting his eyes and letting the alcohol do its job, letting his mind try to just… float. It helped, sometimes, but not right now. “I’m… getting these feelings. Urges.”

“Yeah?” Ted raised an eyebrow. “What kinda urges, like, fucking urges, murder urges… there’s a lotta kinds of urges.”

Henry laughed at that, shutting his eyes. “No, no, yeah, like, uh.” He swallowed. “Sexual urges.”

Ted wiggled his eyebrows. “Ooh, got a special guy? Special lady?”

“It would be a special guy,” Henry whispered, “and no, not yet. He doesn’t feel the same, I can assure you.”

“Yeah?”

There was a moment of silence between them, where both raised their respective drinks to their lips and took a swig. Neither was fully aware of what was happening, both were in this sort of… sleep-deprived, drunken daze.

It’s important to know that, and realize it, or else nothing that will happen next will make any sense.

See, when Henry came downstairs, he was also trying to figure out what the fuck his emotions were doing. How he felt about a certain individual who he found sitting at the very table he had planned to sit at.

Which is how neither of them realized that after a few more moments of quiet, the only noise being the other’s breathing, the quiet settling of the house, the crickets outside, and the heating turning on, Ted and Henry were sitting atop the table, their shoulders brushing together.

Neither of them realized the other turning towards them, cupping his face in his hands, and pulling him closer, closer, into a deep, lust-filled kiss, the taste of the whiskey thick on both of their lips.

Then someone was pulling someone else onto his lap, and grinding down, and Henry was groaning against Ted’s lips, whispering a “let’s take this back to my room,” and Ted was moaning a “please, fuck,” and then someone was pushing him against the wall and kissing down his neck and Henry was being laid out on the bed and his head was swimming and Ted’s mind was mush because he was fucking the sexy professor and then there was pure brightness and pleasure and god, it felt good, it all felt too good.

***

Ted awoke with a pounding headache, with bruises throbbing on his neck and someone’s arms wrapped around his chest. 

When he realized he recognized the room, all the memories from the night before came flooding back. 

“What the fuck?”


	5. Life, It Gets Louder Now.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Post-sex (the morning after).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi.  
> I have nothing to say for myself.

When Henry Hidgens woke up, head spinning and dizzy, still sore and achy from the night before, he didn’t remember anything.

That is, until he realized that he was laying with his nose pressed against someone else’s neck, his arms around their waist.

And, well, he could feel his bare body against the other person’s. His hands resting low, pressing their ass against him. The bruises on his neck, on both of their necks. The light scratches down the other person’s back. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize what had happened last night.

“What the fuck?”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Ted.” Henry stammered, pulling away from him, immediately regretting the lack of warmth as a blast of cold air hit his bare chest. He pulled the blanket up to cover his chest, breathing quickly. “Fuck. Fuck, what did we…?”

Ted turned around, and Henry saw a dark bruise blossoming just below his Adam’s apple, which, he realized with a start, that  _ he _ had done that. 

...which really, shouldn’t have made heat begin to pool in his stomach, but it did.

“I,” Ted sighed, reaching up to brush his fingers against the bruise, “I think that’s exactly what we did.”

“Fuck.” Henry ran a hand through his hair, which was tangled and completely and utterly fucked up. Like him, he supposed. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I… I wasn’t thinking, and---”

Ted laughed. “Bro, don’t worry about it. I think we just needed to blow off some steam, am I right?”

Sure. Sure, that’s totally what it was. It wasn’t just that Henry had been longing for any contact with the other man, or that he was more than a little in love with Ted.

Instead, he grimaced. “You just fucked me. Please, for the love of god, do  _ not _ call me “bro”.” 

***

It had been a little over an hour since the two of them woke up. A little over an hour of pure, after-sex awkwardness. 

A little over an hour of Ted wondering how he felt about the whole experience.

He’d been applying a piece of ice to the hickies on his neck, the most visible ones, trying to get the swelling and color to go down at least a little bit, and laying in his room, thinking.

Just… thinking.

***

“Ted, I don’t know… how to go from here.” Henry admitted, his hair falling over his eyes as he glanced down, now somewhat dressed in a pair of boxers and a huge T-shirt with a stupid science pun on it. “We weren’t in the right headspace.”

Ted found himself nodding, looking anywhere but at the other man. He could still feel that tension, like a rubber band bound to snap, with the pure potential to hurt someone. 

Knowing his history, Ted figured he would be the one getting hurt. It was practically inevitable, all his flings and relationships and hell, even just hookups had ended badly.

“Can we…” Ted asked, but paused. Holding his breath, like something was going to happen and shut him up for real. “Can we just. Pretend this never happened?”   
  


***

Ted didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret any of it, which, if he was honest, scared the shit out of him. This wasn’t any of his usual hookups, he knew that.

Shit, there was bound to be some deep, repressed longing somewhere, right? After all, no one drunkenly hooks up with someone who they’ve been dreaming about for days now.

He shifted, and winced, almost immediately. His hips ached--he wasn’t as young as he used to be, his joints sure as fuck told him that, but dammit.

...dammit.

***

Henry pulled on a sweater.

That was how he started his days, typically, with a shower, then a sweater. 

But this sweater wasn’t his. And he wasn’t going to shower.

Not just yet. 

The sweater had been left on the floor of his bedroom sometime the previous night. It wasn’t one of his usual pullovers, or hell, even a buttoned cardigan. It was some shapeless, fuzzy, blanket-like… thing, that no one in their right mind would even consider wearing out of the house.

And it didn’t belong to Hidgens. Not that.    
  


So why, once Ted had left the room, frantically pulling on his pajama pants and t-shirt and leaving a still-naked and groggy Henry laying in his bed, he’d gotten up to fetch the sweater and pull it on, Henry had absolutely no clue.

It smelled like Ted, Henry noted. 

He remembered the smell, which normally wouldn’t be romantic and make something in his chest flutter, but he did. The smell of Ted’s shampoo mixed with the sweat still matting his hair to his head. The taste of his lips and his skin still lingered, which, again, should have been gross. 

It really fucking wasn’t. In fact, it was perfect.

...he really was into this idiot, wasn’t he?

**Author's Note:**

> (contact me on Tumblr @coldairballoons!)


End file.
